


The Man Who Knew Too Much

by conceptualblindspot



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Cop!AU, F/F, F/M, M/M, noir
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:56:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23038972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptualblindspot/pseuds/conceptualblindspot
Summary: In the city of Trost, where crime rates skyrocket, where violence is no one's foreign language, a young detective Jean Kirstein resolves to do his part in cleaning up the streets. When he's paired up with the eccentric senior detective Zoe Hange, his first day on the job already looks dreary. With the line between heroes and villains suddenly becoming bleak, how will a young idealist survive while still keeping a good head on his shoulders?
Relationships: Hange Zoë/Levi, Jean Kirstein/Eren Yeager, Nanaba/Mike Zacharias
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	The Man Who Knew Too Much

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vakarias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vakarias/gifts).



> I have no self-control and what was supposed to be a drabble to rekindle an old flame, turned into a monster to edit. Jean's young and a bit naive and very very green, and it was fun seeing Zoe through his eyes for once. I hope I gave him justice! As always, Hanjo is an enigma, Smith is a bastard, and Levi is there to be caught and try his best while surrounded by barely humans. I love them to death.
> 
> I tried to keep their characterization as close as possible to early canon, however, due to this being a self-indulged excuse, it will deviate from facts in canon. I hope some of my humour translates well into the story, I hope you'll be just as amused reading as I was writing.  
> As always, any and every feedback is appreciated!  
> Lots of love,  
> CB x

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On his first day of work Jean not only has to deal with an eccentric new partner, but also the most annoying classmate he's ever gotten the chance to know. Why must his patience be tested right from the start?

“A fucking rookie!?!” The thunderous female voice comes from the door he’s standing in front of. “You’re giving me a rookie, Erwin?!?!?” The voice carries on and if his nerves haven’t already gotten the best of him, well now he can downright feel his stomach turning. Shit. This wasn’t how he expected his first day on the job to be. Truth be told, he didn’t exactly know _what_ to expect in the first place, except that the person he’s supposed to be working with was a legend in the field. But this legend isn’t too happy to be working with _him_. He can’t blame them, after all, he _is_ a rookie. However, _this_ strong of a reaction with the entire precinct witnessing his superiors hashing it out of his competency pokes at his pride. His promotion and transfer here weren’t unjustified, he thinks. 

“If you needed a babysitter for me, Moblit would’ve done just fine!” the voice continues to roar, and though he can hear a firm, calm baritone respond, he cannot make out the words. Jesus, he didn’t even start yet, and this is what he already has to deal with? Great, fucking great. If he knew this job would be this much of a hassle, he would’ve just stayed at the fucking Academy, living a cushy life as an instructor. No, he _had_ to be a hero, he _had_ to give in to ideals of serving and protecting and ridding the streets of this city of all the scum that littered it. There was more than plenty to go around. 

Suddenly, the door swings open and he has to move away as a mess of auburn hair swings by him and makes its way to the exit. “Are you coming or what?” the person turns around and he’s stupified. Were they talking to him? 

“Yes I’m talking to you, Kirstein, now move your ass, come on.” They say through a grin, but he doesn’t like the way the grin sits on their face. 

“Y-yes, sir.” He stumbles over his own words just as much as he does over his own feet as he tries to catch up. 

When he does catch up and they make their way outside to the cold and gloomy weather of Trost, his new partner’s mouth opens, but there’s no anger nor resentment they exhibited back in the office. 

“Look, kid,” they start. _Kid_. He shudders at the word, a reminder of how new and young and inexperienced he is. Would he have the guts to tell his partner _not_ to call him that? He doesn’t have time to protest as they continue. “I’m not gonna pretend I’m happy to be working with you. I know you heard me in there. Here’s the deal, follow my lead and don’t get yourself killed, got it?” They speak fast and frantic and there is something odd about the tonality of their words, a hint of a foreign accent. 

“My name is Zoe Hange.” An outstretched hand, and a smile, more honest this time, reaching the hazel eyes behind the specs. “Won’t say glad to meet ya, though it would’ve been true in any other circumstance.” 

“Jean Kirstein, and, uh… likewise, I guess. Ma’am?” He takes the outstretched hand and regrets his address both earlier and now. How the hell is he supposed to address his partner?

“I look like a ma’am to you, Kirstein?” There’s humour in Hange’s voice, but somehow it doesn’t make him relieved but heightens his anxiety instead. He’s lost and almost resolute to take his ass back to the Lieutenant’s office and ask for a new partner. Or a transfer. Hell, maybe even regular patrol would’ve been better than this.

“No sirs, no ma’ams, and _no_ missus, got it?” Hange says. “Now come on, I’m buying you breakfast, as is our tradition.”

Jean follows his partner, inwardly cursing this entire day. The cobbled streets are wet and slippery and he keeps his eyes to them as they make their way towards the diner. He doesn’t even try to get his thoughts in order; they are a jumbled mess and the best he can do now is follow and do exactly as told. He doesn’t like the idea, though. He hates the idea of being pushed down and silenced and being considered a hindrance. In her place, he wouldn’t want to babysit some kid who couldn’t tell his ass from his head. But he wasn’t just some kid. He’s not just some kid, and he has every right to be here. If he has to, he’ll prove it. Resolute, Jean eyes the detective at his side. Her auburn hair was a mess of waves tied up high in a ponytail, with a few runaway strands hanging at the side of her face. She had a pleasant face and a smirk that constantly played on her lips. Even though the way she walked was relaxed, her eyes kept scanning the streets, taking in their surroundings, looking for… he’s not sure what she’s looking for. A clue? A sign of danger? She was tall and lean and the way she carried herself gave out confidence. But under all that Jean could see something frantic, something bubbling right beneath the surface. Oh, she can tear him a new one in a matter of seconds, he thinks to himself, judging by the outburst that happened earlier at the precinct.

Hange opens the door to let him in. “After you,” she says. He can’t do much other than a nod at her general direction to say thanks. He doesn’t like this at all, he doesn’t like her, and it’s been established that she’s not too crazy about him either. Jean wonders why, out of all the people in the world, he has to be the one paired up with Zoe Hange? Bad luck, must be. 

As they sit down and the waitress takes their order, he feels her eyes on him. Studying him, assessing him. As a reflex, he brings his hand up to scratch the back of his head. 

“Have you already had your debriefing with the Lieutenant?” Hange asks. 

“No, uh. You kind of dragged me out before I was called in.”

Just a hum in response. 

“Uh, Hange?” Jean tries to weigh his next words, “Can I be honest with you?”

She raises her eyebrows at the question, and he doesn’t like the way she looks at him behind the glasses. “I would expect nothing less.” 

“I get that you hate the idea of working with a rookie, but I’m not as incompetent as you might think.” Oh, no, now she looks bored. It _irritates_ him, and the old dog barks again, wishing to spit out anything just to provoke a reaction. “I know more than just how to stay alive.” He’s frowning at her and knows he must look even more like a child now, but he can’t help it. Jean hates the idea of being thought so little of. 

“Then prove it.” Comes her answer and it pokes at his pride even more. She doesn’t believe him. He opens his mouth to add more when a man approaches them, snickering as if enjoying some private joke. Hange’s not in on it, as her face turns cold and the smile she usually carries melts away. 

“Well well well,” the man says, “who do we have here? Detective Hange and?” his eyes turn to Jean, but he doesn’t even open his mouth to introduce himself when Hange replies in his stead.

“ _Detective_ Kirstein.”

Oh. 

Wait.

“I see.” the man replies without looking at her. “You must be thrilled to have such a _young_ partner. He has _so much_ to learn from you.” Now, wait a fucking minute, Jean absolutely did not appreciate being talked about as if he weren’t sitting _right there_ , and especially with such sarcasm. Who even _is_ this guy. 

“He’s young.” Zoe says simply, “But you know I have a passion for teaching, don’t you?” Now her mouth stretches into a grin, but there isn’t an ounce of friendliness in it. More like she’s baring her teeth, “You still remember the lesson I taught you, don’t you, Dawk?” And with that, the man’s face falls and he turns to gape at Hange. For a moment he tries to stutter back a quip at her expense but decides against it. Though in this situation it might’ve been better to keep his mouth shut, Jean simply cannot do so.

“I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name, sir.” He says, reverting the man’s attention.

“Nile Dawk, Internal Affairs.” His entire demeanour changes and Jean notices how his shoulder straighten and the cold glare he shoots at both of them. “Now that you’re working with Detective Hange, you’ll be seeing a lot of me. Take care.” With that, Dawk turns around on his heel and strides away from them. 

Jean turns to his partner, confused. If it were physically possible, he’d bet his entire face morphed into a big question mark. But Hange just bursts into laughter. 

“ _I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name, sir_. Brilliant. Amazing! Did you see his face?!” 

Eventually, though, she manages to stifle her giggles. “That goat-faced asshole and I go way way back. He’s been on my ass for _years_ now, trying to find some dirt on me. Kinda like a personal vendetta, I guess.” 

He wants to ask more but even knowing this much only confirms his dislike for her. If Hange has someone from Internal Affairs constantly at her ass, doesn’t it mean she’s dirty? They’re just trying to prove it. And _he_ had to be the one partnered up with her. Now, this makes him mad. As if the scum that littered the streets, robbing, abusing, murdering weren’t enough, there were bad apples _in_ the Force, right under his nose. And he may or may not be having breakfast with one. 

“I’m sure he’s got a reason to be after you.” He can’t help but bark back at her, even if it’s a small bark, from nothing but a clueless rookie. 

“Sure.” Hange grins, “The same reason Smith put you on my ass.” 

How can he not be offended by everything this woman has said so far? Hange has no regard for him, no regard for their superior officer, and, his suspicion is, no regard for rules put in place _for a reason_. 

“Why’d you introduce me to him? In my stead?” he asks. If he’s about to be stuck with her, might as well try and find out everything he can, right?

“Cause he’s an ass.” 

“That’s it?” 

“I get to mock and haze my rookie partner, not that asshole.” 

“Mock?” His brow furrows again.

“You’re easily flustered.” 

She’s right and as much as he’d like to shoot something back at her, he’s at a loss for words. She seems to know more about him than he does about her. Jean suspects the good detective had a peek at his files beforehand as well. He was very much at a disadvantage here. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll be briefed about me soon.” Hange answers his unspoken question. He’s not sure if he wants to know. 

As they make their way out the diner, into the cold Trost air, small droplets of rain drop down on their shoulders. He hears her curse under her breath. She must not like the weather. To be fair, no one did. Who knows when was the last time this city saw any sunshine. Maybe that was the reason behind such a high crime rate. 

Once inside, Hange makes her way straight to her desk. Of course that would be her desk, the place was a mess. Piles on top of piles of files, papers, books, mugs scattered around everywhere. One of the drawers stood open, its contents spilling out and Jean doubts it could ever be closed. He thinks twice before following her to the desk across from hers, still clean, still untouched, void of any personality. _His_ desk. Jean runs his hand along the wooden surface and, throwing his coat over the chair, sits down, palms firmly pressed down to the wood. Hange pays him no mind, her nose already buried in one of the many many files. 

“Kirstein.” A sudden shadow appears above him and speaks his name. He looks up to see a tall man with blonde hair falling to both sides of his face, and a pair of most impressive moustache he’s ever seen in his life. “I’m Seargent Mike Zacharius. The Lieutenant wants to speak with you in his office.”

“Yes, sir,” Jean responds quickly and stands up, not failing to notice the look between Hange and the Seargent. He’s not even out of the earshot when he says: “Smells green,” to her and she laughs in response. Great. Just great. 

Jean briskly knocks on the door and enters, not waiting to be called in. His pulse quickens and he feels his nerves getting the best of him. Keep calm, Kirstein, he thinks to himself, as he addresses the blond man behind the desk. “You wanted to see me, sir?” 

“Ah, Kirstein, yes. Please, sit down.” 

Lieutenant Erwin Smith has been everything Jean wanted to be. His reputation and status were impeccable, his demeanour calm and poised his tone pleasant and polite but he ruled his precinct with an iron fist and produced results others in Trost could only dream about. Yes. Jean Kirstein was a fan, admired the man and the legend as much as his young heart could. He wanted to _be exactly like_ Erwin Smith. When the news of his transfer to this unit came, Jean felt in the seventh heaven, overcome by joy. Granted, that joy has been somewhat muted due to his new partner, but Erwin Smith was inviting him to sit across from him.

“I trust you’ve already had a chance to meet your partner,” Erwin says with a polite smile. The way he talks is pleasant and Jean finds his presence comforting. Unlike a certain someone, he got to meet not long ago.

“Yes, sir.” 

“Don’t worry, Hange gets easier to handle with time.” Jean’s not sure about the accuracy of those words. 

“With all due respect, sir. I’m not sure Detective Hange can be tolerated, let alone handled.” 

Erwin’s expression doesn’t change, and Jean again admires the control this man has, even in front of a rookie with a big mouth. “That is precisely why you’re here. You see, she has been a thorn in our side for quite a while. No one can deny her brilliance and stats, of course. She’s one of the best. But, there is a problem at hand.” The Lieutenant sighs and takes one of the files from his desk. He slides it towards Jean, and suddenly, without actually changing his demeanour or facial expression, he seems cold, determined, a frosty glance in his direction telling more about his disapproval of Hange than Jean witnessed in that little exchange between her and Nile Dawk. 

“No one knows the streets better than her. No one knows the ins and outs of this city better than her. She gets the job done, but she uses any means necessary and her methods are… less than conventional. Unfortunately, so far, we haven’t managed to find any concrete evidence of her connections to the underworld. She’s been refusing to work with partners. When we tried to assign her one, they would usually quit within a month, desiring never to speak about her, or see her again. The only person she hasn’t managed to chase away yet is Officer Moblit Benner, but he is so devoted and faithful to her, I cannot expect him to spill a single piece of information on his beloved superior. The rest of the precinct either loves her or fears her. Thus far, I’ve had no luck in putting a leash on her.” 

Holy shit, Jean thinks. This might be more than he can chew, but Erwin Smith is putting him in charge of someone he himself hasn’t been able to control. Can Jean? 

“What am I to do, sir?” He asks. 

“I’ve seen your records, Kirstein. You don’t give up easily. When you bite, you don’t let go, isn’t that right?”

“Damn right,” Jean says, his chest filled with pride, and it only took him a second to realize his mouth ran faster than his brain again. “Sir.” He adds, hoping the Lieutenant didn’t think of him as rude and disrespectful. Not towards him, at least. 

“Good.” Erwin’s eyes seem to soften a bit, “Your task is to keep an eye on her. Report back directly to me and no one else. Not the other detectives, not the Sergeant, only me. Not even Nile Dawk, though I don’t doubt he’ll be contacting you as well. I can’t trust any of them considering Hange’s connections.”

A babysitting job. In fact, this has to be the most difficult babysitting job in the world, Jean thinks and has no reply for Erwin. Of course, he’ll do it, the Lieutenant has entrusted him with this task, after all. However, just thinking about having to be Hange’s shadow all the time made his nerves rebel against him. He didn’t like it at all. 

“No one likes a babysitting job, I know,” As if seeing right through him Erwin speaks, “and I know you probably wanted to be in action, which with Hange, trust me, you won’t miss. But I have only you to trust with this, kiddo.” 

When _Erwin Smith_ uses that nickname, Jean feels almost proud to be that familiar with the legendary leader. He is _trusted_. No matter how young and naive he was, Jean’s pride soars up into the sky, his beam an open book in front of his superior officer. 

“Yes, sir, you can count on me, sir.” 

“Good. That would be all, for now. Play nice.” 

There’s an odd bounce in his step as he makes his way back to his desk. Hange is still buried in the file. He has questions, he’s eager to get what Erwin needs out of her, but opts for silence. Shouldn’t rush it, shouldn’t push his luck. He has a task to do, and by God, he’ll do it well. As he sits down, Hange throws a bemused glance his way. 

“Already got told about the babysitting mission?” She asks, the mocking in her tone as bright as day. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He spits back almost immediately, but it only makes her laugh. She knows what he’s supposed to do. Fuck, he thinks, but then remembers she’s been assigned partners before. 

“You’re planning on getting rid of me within a month.” His eyes narrow at her. 

“Oh, you’ll be a pleasant surprise if you manage to last that long.” Her grin is bright and he can’t stand it. He’ll show her not to underestimate him. He’ll show her and the Lieutenant he’s worth considering and worth their time. 

“We’ll see if _you’ll_ last that long, _ma’am._ ” Again, his mouth works faster than his brain does, but finally, he manages to surprise his partner, wiping that bored look from her face. They stare at each other for a moment before Hange bursts into hearty laughter. It irritates him, makes him made. Is she laughing at him? 

“I like you, kid.” She finally presses out through the laughter, “Working with you might be fun after all.” 

He doesn’t know what that means, he doesn’t care what it means. He won’t be laughed at. Fun? She’s doing all this for fun? Kid? He’ll bring her down in no time, and prove his worth, and when she’s finally caught with her hand in the cookie jar, he’ll be the one to laugh at _her_. 

Jaw clenched, mouth pressed firmly into a thin line, he can’t do much than glare at her. She pays him no mind once again. Just as he’s about to ask another question, a familiar but unwelcome voice reaches his ears and grinds on his nerves,

“Jesus, look at what the cat dragged in! Jean Kirstein!” the guy yells at him from the other side and is quickly met with a smack to the back of his head by a much shorter, much grumpier guy. Eren fucking Jaeger. Probably the last person he’d want to see on the Earth. Great, how good can this day get? 

“Don’t yell like you’re on a fucking mountain.” The older guy next to him says to Eren and they both make their way to Jean and Hange. 

“Hey kiddo, short stuff.” Unlike Jean, Eren beams at Hange’s nickname. Much like Jean, the other guy grimaces at her. 

“Hange!” Eren would practically leap in her arms, it seems. He looks like a puppy next to her and Jean can’t help but look at them with disgust. The guy that came in with Eren obviously shares the sentiment. Hange reaches out and ruffles Eren’s head and, at this point, Jean can’t believe his eye. What _is_ all this? The other guy just lets out a resigned sigh. Maybe they should switch partners. Just by the way he smacked Eren, Jean already likes the dude. 

“Kirstein this is Detective Levi, sir, this is Jean Kirstein. We graduated from the Academy together.” 

Nope, nevermind, Jean doesn’t like the dude either. He _wanted_ to reach out his hand and shake Levi’s cause it was the right thing to do, but the cold look he shoots him makes Jean crawl in on himself. As if he were some disgusting bug or something. Is there anyone _normal_ working at his station? 

“Pleasure.” finally Eren’s partner, he guesses, presses out the word, but his entire being was saying otherwise. 

“He didn’t shake your hand because he hasn’t seen you use the bathroom,” Hange says and Jean gapes at her.

“Excuse me?” 

“He doesn’t know if you wash your hands thoroughly, yet,” Eren adds cheerfully. “The detective hates filth and lack of hygiene.” 

“And yet I’ve been blessed by both you and that nutcase,” Levi says, nodding towards Hange, who just grins at him. 

It would be a gross understatement to say that Jean was confused by what’s been playing in front of him. There isn’t a normal person at this station, he’s sure of it. Except him and Erwin Smith, of course. How this lot managed to break records in busts is beyond him. 

Then, he notices the look Eren’s shooting his way. Jean cannot exactly interpret what it meant, the crazy bastard had an inexplicable talent of being way too intense all the time. It’s as if he wants to say something but can’t. Why? Is it Hange? Levi? 

“Hey Jaeger, wanna go out for a smoke?” He asks half-hoping the monkey boy would say no. 

“Yeah, sure.” Comes an immediate response, and Jean wonders if this fool could sound stiffer.

“You don’t smoke, Eren,” Zoe comments, but her nose is already back in the file, with Levi looming above her, frowning at it.

The two make their way up to the roof, Jean first, Eren following closely. Once up there, he turns towards the brunette and asks: 

“What?”

“What?” comes Eren’s reply and Jean swears to God he never wanted to punch  _ anyone _ more than that kid. 

“What the fuck?” 

“What’s your problem?!”

“You were looking at me down there as if you had something to say, now fucking say it!” Jean’s patience is wearing thin. Granted, he never had much of it in the first place. 

“You’re... “ Eren pauses a bit, “you’re Detective Hange’s babysitter.” This isn’t a question. Jean can’t help his stare, he can’t help his frown, and he can’t help what comes out of his mouth next. 

“Better a babysitter than a fucking punching bag,  _ Jaeger _ .” 

He watches as the other’s face changes into a grimace of pure rage and for a moment there Jean’s sure Eren’s about to punch him. But he just takes a deep breath and pointedly stares at him. 

“You’re a fucking moron, Kirstein.” 

“Me? A moron?”

“Yes, you’re an idiot, you literally don’t have a brain!”

“Fuck you!” Now he feels the need to punch Eren in the face. “Are you gonna speak or not, you… you…. Stupid monkey boy!!!” 

Eren looks stupefied for a moment. Serves him right. Why must he  _ always _ get on his nerves? Jean huffs, fully ready to fight him right here and now. But Eren just snorts at his insult. 

“Fine, horse-face, since your itty bitty brain can’t figure it out on its own, I’ll tell you.” Jean doesn’t really care what Eren has to say, but he stills nonetheless. 

“Spit. It. Out.” 

“We’re both newbies, both assigned to be partners at the same station to two… practically veterans who seem to be really close to each other, both of us from the same generation at the Academy. You don’t think there’s anything suspicious about that, Big Head?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jean snaps back. He knows Eren’s messing with him, he just knows. Still, a seed of suspicion and curiosity finds its way to plant itself in his brain. Out of spite he pushes it down and stares at Eren. 

“Fine, don’t listen then.” The brunette snaps and turns on his heel to leave. Jean doesn’t stop him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Does he? 

With a deep breath, he follows Eren downstairs, trying to prepare himself to face Hange again. 

Maybe he should’ve actually had his cigarette up there. 


End file.
